


The Hidden Paw

by Lyaka



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cheetah on the TARDIS, Craaaaaaaaack, Crack, Episode: s07e10 Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyaka/pseuds/Lyaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When Clara’d got all that running through her head, which you would really think would be enough, well, it wasn’t the best time to put her hand against the wall and discover giant gouges had been clawed into it by monster or monsters unknown.</i>
</p>
<p>Or, the one where Eleven has Cheetah!Master running around on his TARDIS. Because reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hidden Paw

**Author's Note:**

> Set shortly after the opening sequence of Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS. Craaaaaack. Why is Cheetah!Master on Eleven’s TARDIS? Who knows? I certainly don’t.
> 
> (But I can’t have been the only one who saw claw marks on the TARDIS wall in this week’s episode and thought: “OMG it’s Cheetah!Master HAH I KNEW IT!”)
> 
> Title from _Macavity_ , from CATS, because that was totally Cheetah!Master's theme song.

The first thing Clara found – after getting knocked legs-over-teakettle by the TARDIS, thank you very much, Clara had _tried_ to tell the Doctor that the TARDIS didn’t like her, but nooo, he had to go all “summer of love” on her and say they just needed a bit of _girl-bonding_ time, honestly – anyway, when she’d just been thrown around by a sentient spaceship who didn’t like her, and dragged herself to her feet amongst the realization that she truly had no idea where she was or how close she might be to anything useful, like food; when she then remembered that the Doctor had said something about the TARDIS being able to dynamically reconfigure itself almost instantly, meaning that if it really did decide to get rid of Clara she was going to be walking in circles until she died for lack of water – when she’d got all that running through her head, which _you would really think would be enough_ , well, it wasn’t the best time to put her hand against the wall and discover giant gouges had been clawed into it by monster or monsters unknown.

“I’m sure they’re years old,” she told herself immediately, though the way her fingers were running themselves through the grooves of their own accord wasn’t exactly comforting. “From one of the Doctor’s earlier adventures. He must just have forgotten to tell me the one about the giant… claw… monster… thingies.”

Her voice trailed off a little bit at the end there, like it could tell Clara didn’t really believe herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of something darting across the corridor.

* * *

“- sure she’s perfectly safe,” the Doctor said to himself comfortingly as he walked the corridors of the TARDIS in search of his wayward companion. “Just a bit lost. Just got to find her. No wonder she can’t find her way around, with things jumbled like this. And you!” He didn’t break stride, but it was clear that this was now addressed to the TARDIS. “Throwing her like that, that wasn’t exactly _nice_. We’re trying to be nice, now, remember? I know she’s not exactly what you’re used to, but that’s no reason to – ”

In the distance, a very familiar growling made itself heard. The Doctor’s eyes widened comically, and he broke into a sudden, graceless, frantic run.

* * *

She was _sure_ she’d seen it, that time. A shape darting through an empty corridor, and a pair of golden eyes.

Clara squared her shoulders and gave herself a pep talk. She couldn’t afford to be timid now that she was out exploring the stars, could she? Course not. Maybe the _old_ Clara Oswald, part-time nanny, would conjure up images of horrible shambling zombies ready to lunge at her out of the darkness of the corridor –

“Going about this the wrong way, dear,” she told herself firmly, and aloud.

Right. Starting over. Clara Oswald, interstellar and intertemporal traveler, wasn’t scared of anything. Not a bright, spunky girl like _her_. No siree.

And _certainly_ she wasn’t scared of what was probably only the Doctor’s pet cat that he’d forgotten to tell her about. That would be just like the Doctor, after all. To have a cat stashed somewhere away on the TARDIS that he completely forgot to mention until, whoops, everything’s topsy-turvy and now the cat is wandering the hallways. Probably just looking for a glass of milk. Or its litter box. Or maybe it wanted a cuddle. Clara was a world-class cuddler of cats, as it happened, so today was this cat’s lucky day.

Thus emboldened, Clara crept forward, holding out one hand in best cat-greeting fashion.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” she tried.

Something stepped out of the shadows, and –

Clara screamed.

* * *

When the Doctor finally found Clara, several hours later, she was prone on the floor of the TARDIS. It was evident immediately that this was not merely the result of boredom or exhaustion; the man-shaped cat being sprawled half on top of her gave _that_ one away pretty quickly.

Clara, perhaps out of a healthy dose of respect for the wickedly sharp claws inches from her heart, was holding very still. The only things that gave away she wasn’t a Clara-shaped corpse were the rise and fall of her chest, as she breathed, and the ceaseless motion of her right hand as it scritched behind one twitching, sensitive ear. The cheetah better known as the Master was purring loudly enough to rattle several adjacent gratings.

_“Doctor,”_ Clara hissed as soon as he approached. “You had better have a _damn_ good explanation for this. I was ready for a cat, I really was, but you have a _man who thinks he’s a cat_ running around on your TARDIS? Seriously, does the weird ever stop with you?”

“Ah,” the Doctor said, dismayed. “That is. Er. It’s a bit of a long story.”

Pointedly, Clara stopped moving her right hand. Almost immediately, golden eyes opened, and a growl began to rumble through the cat-creature pinning her down. Her point made, Clara resumed her attentions. The golden eyes slid closed again in apparent bliss.

“First get the cat-man off,” Clara directed. “Then you can tell me all about it. In great detail. I can safely promise to be _all ears_.”

The Doctor slanted his eyes at the Clara/Master pile and felt faintly jealous. Just faintly, mind. Not really very much at – oh, who was he kidding, he was pretty blindingly jealous right about now. He’d thought _he_ was the only one to know about that sensitive spot behind the right ear –

“Any time you want, Doctor,” Clara said sweetly.

“Right.” The Doctor blinked, shook his head, and pasted on his very best _who-me?_ smile.“Well. Do you remember what I said? About what to do when you’re holding on to something precious?”

Clara blinked in momentary surprise. “Yes…?”

“Good.” The Doctor straightened his bowtie, sidled slightly around a cheerfully twitching tail, and extended his hand to Clara.

“One,” he said.

“Two,” Clara agreed.

“Three,” the Doctor finished, and yanked.

The Master, unfairly tumbled from his comfortable sprawl and defrauded of his ear-scritchings, let out a displeased growl and rose to his full height, looking very fierce and not a little uncanny in the flickering TARDIS light.

“Doctor?” Clara called, backing a few steps away.

“ _Run!”_ the Doctor yelled.

* * *

(The Master did stop chasing them. Eventually. But only after the Doctor allowed himself to be caught.)


End file.
